


Sinners

by TheMightyFlynn



Series: New Year's Countdown [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Drunk Sex, Dubious Morality, Explicit Language, Homophobic Language, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-10 19:57:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12919149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMightyFlynn/pseuds/TheMightyFlynn
Summary: Neither of them were angels.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: 'mistletoe'.  
> This fic contains some extremely incorrect Latin! It's only one word, though.  
> The next chapter will explain the rating.

The door of 12 Grimmauld Place crashed against the wall as Severus shoved it. The sound woke Mrs. Black up, and her screeches echoed through the nearly-empty house as he stalked down the hall and up the stairs.

“Black!”

Severus’ bootheels clacked against the wooden floor as he moved through the house. He knew that Black had to be here somewhere; it was too dangerous for him to have left. A small smile crossed his face at the thought. No matter what Black did or said to him, Severus knew that he had one thing on that bastard: at least he wasn’t confined to his house.

“Black, where are you?”

Stopping in the door of the empty drawing room with its family tree tapestry, Severus paused. If Black was not in the drawing room, then that meant he must either be downstairs, or in one of the bedrooms. Severus was not going to go searching through the bedrooms – who knew _what_ horrors he would find? – so he turned on his heel and stomped back towards the stairs. The mounted elf heads seemed to stare at him on his way down the stairs, sending a strange chill down his spine. Mrs. Black began to screech again the second he set foot on the bottom floor.

“Stow it, you harpy!”

“Shut- _up_!”

Severus’ _Silencio_ crossed with a jet of red that was cast at the portrait at the exact same time. His head jerked sharply towards the living room doorway. Black stood leaning against the doorjamb. Severus’ top lip curled at the sight of him. His long, scraggly black hair fell in knots past his shoulders, looking like it hadn’t been brushed or even washed in weeks. His beard was in no better shape, the rough-looking hairs curling in a wild mess on his chin and cheeks. Severus’ eyes trailed slowly down Black’s body, taking in the tattered AC/DC shirt and the worn, torn jeans that hung loosely from his slim hips. The fact that he was barefoot seemed to stick in Severus’ mind before a snort of laughter caught his attention.

“Ran across one of the twins’ tricks?”

“Fuck off, Black. Release whatever charm this is, and I’ll leave you to your squalor.”

Black’s eyes were fixed above Severus’ head. The second he had landed outside Grimmauld, a magically enchanted sprig of mistletoe had latched onto him, hovering stubbornly above his head no matter what he cast at it. Severus’ wand hand twitched as annoyance rushed through him.

“What are you doing here?” Black sneered, still slouched against the doorjamb. “Dumbledore forcing you to check up on me?”

Casting his eyes over both Black and the state of his surroundings, Severus rolled his eyes. “He seems to believe – quite correctly, if you ask me – that you require a nursemaid.” Severus could not help the tone of amusement in his voice, despite his current situation. “Now, remove this accursed plant so I can inform him that you have not yet managed to drink yourself to death.”

When Black merely stood and stared at him, Severus sighed. He was fully aware that the supposed only way to break the mistletoe’s hold over him was to have someone kiss him beneath it. He was also fully aware that _that_ was about as likely to happen as The Dark Lord simply giving up his hopes of world domination and taking up a holiday house in the Hamptons.

“You propositioning me, Snivellus?”

Disgust ran through Severus as Black pushed off the doorjamb. There was something odd in the tone of Black’s voice, but Severus ignored it in favour of reacting to the insult.

“Bestiality has never been an inclination of mine.”

“Oh, that’s clever, Snape, really clever. Which of your students did you steal that insult from? Were they twelve? Or maybe even eleven?”

Black began to move towards him, his long legs moving slowly so his hips swayed a little with each step. Severus’ wand hand twitched. He had yet to replace the wand in its holster, and it seemed as though that was going to be a good thing.

“I’m actually surprised you understood even that much, Black: I usually have to dumb things down to your comprehension level. Anything beyond two syllables and you tend to get confused.”

Black paused two steps from him and crossed his arms over his chest. Severus’ muscles bunched with tension, but his wand stayed steadily at his side. He knew that if Black chose to attack him, he could defend himself, and he would be ready to do so. Severus’ other hand clenched by his side as adrenalin raced through him. His heart beginning to thud against his chest, he licked his lips as he stared at Black, willing him to do it, to take the risk of attacking. It had been too long since he had had the opportunity to test his skills in a real fight. When Black moved, however, it was not to attack. Black’s left hand went around Severus’ right, trapping his wand by his side, but it was Black’s right hand that caught Severus’ attention more than anything else. Tangling through Severus’ hair, it tilted his head back, forcing him to look Black in the eyes as he pressed their bodies together.

“You want this gone, Snape? Huh?” He thrust his hips, clearly trying to work his thigh in-between Severus’. “You want me to _kiss_ you?”

Severus twisted his hand, trying to release Black’s grip on him. “No.”

Black chuckled as he leant in, their lips a mere centimetre apart. “‘No’? Really?” The smile he offered up when he finally managed to thrust his thigh in-between Severus’ sent a shiver through Severus’ chest. “Ah, that’s it, then? You’d rather be fucked?”

With Black pressed against him, rubbing his thigh against Severus’ groin, there was little chance that he would not begin to harden. It was a natural response to physical stimulation, he knew. He grunted as he twisted his hand harder, still trying to release Black’s grip on his wand hand. Tilting his head back further to try to prevent the bastard from actually kissing him, he reached up to grab a handful of Black’s hair, grimacing at the feel of it. Severus yanked, feeling strands of the stuff coming loose in his hand.

“You’ll pay for this, Black.”

Black jerked his head forward, leaving Severus’ fingers with strands of his hair tangled through them and only just avoiding headbutting him. “Will, I? How? You gonna make me come, Snape? Will that be my punishment? The knowledge that someone as ugly as _you_ can get me off?”

The wild look to his eyes added to the adrenalin pumping through Severus. Finally managing to free his wand hand, he cast a silent Stinging Hex. Black stumbled backwards with a grunt, taking what felt like an entire handful of Severus’ hair with him. He knocked over a side table in the process, sending it crashing to the floor. The noise broke Mrs. Black out of the spells that had held her silent for the past few minutes.

“ _Sinners! Worthless scum! Befouling the house of my forefathers with your unnatural desires!_ ”

His top lip curling with disgust at the sensation of his hard cock pressing against his fly, Severus stepped forward, standing over Black. He pointed his wand directly at Black’s chest.

“Do it.”

“What?”

Black’s stormy grey eyes flashed as he looked up at Severus from the floor. “Do it. Curse me, hex me; I don’t care.”

Severus automatically took a step backward. “You’re pathetic.”

_“Pathetic! Pathetic! Incubators of disease and wretchedness! Worthless, pathetic villains!_ ”

Black chuckled, the sound hollow. “You think I don’t know that? Trapped here in this house with _that_ as my only company. Forced to try to get some kind of human interaction from the likes of you?” He shook his head as he stood. “If you think I don’t know how pathetic I am, then you really are stupider than I ever imagined.”

With that, he turned and walked back into the living room. Severus noted that he left his wand lying on the floor beside the fallen side table. Confusion rushed through Severus’ chest. He had Sirius Black here, right now, wandless and apparently unwilling to defend himself. He should take the opportunity presented to him and just curse the bastard. He should – and he _could_ – but it felt… cheap. If he was going to battle Black, then it would be on even ground, not at Black’s invitation.

“ _Half-breed! Befouling your ancestors with your very existence!_ ”

Severus snarled as he cast another Silencing Charm at the portrait before stomping into the living room after Black. The sight that met him there was almost beyond comprehension. Black lay sprawled in a battered chair beside the fireplace, his legs stretched before him. Severus jerked his eyes away from the prominent bulge in Black’s jeans to take in the empty bottles lying scattered over the floor, the dust piled up on every surface that was not regularly occupied by another bottle, and the soot that spread from the fireplace. His top lip curled again.

“Go on, say it. I know exactly what you’re thinking and you’d be correct.”

Returning his gaze to Black, Severus expected to feel revulsion. All he really felt was pity, though. For a man to be reduced to living willingly like this, there had to be something incredibly wrong. Especially considering the man in question was Sirius Black. There must have been something in Severus’ expression, because Black let out a snort.

“Brilliant. Fan-fucking-tastic. You come in here and I’m expecting a fight, maybe even a fuck to liven things up and all I get is pity.” He shoved himself to his feet, causing Severus to raise his wand again. “You think I want this? You think I _want_ to live like this? You think I want to be trapped here, in a house that I have always despised, listening to my dead mother screaming insults at me all day long? You think that I wouldn’t rather be out there, fighting?”

Severus clenched his fingers around his wand handle, holding it steady as Black advanced on him again. “If _you_ think _I_ care about your pathetic existence, Black, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Black spread his hands out, grinning at Severus. “And yet, here you are, checking up on me on Dumbledore’s orders.”

“Exactly,” Severus responded immediately. “I am _following orders_ , Black.”

“Dumbledore says ‘jump’ and you ask ‘how high’?”

The hairs on the back of Severus’ neck stood on end as annoyance rippled over his skin. “As compared to being the one fuck-up who is incapable of listening to him, I believe I prefer to be seen as the good soldier.”

“Lap dog, you mean.”

“I am not reckless, and I do not put missions at risk just because I am _bored_.”

“Harry is not a _mission_ , Snivellus, and I didn’t risk anything.”

“Really? So, it was your intention to show yourself to Lucius Malfoy?”

“The only way he could have known it was me is if _you_ told him.”

Severus rolled his eyes. “I refuse to be drawn into one of your ridiculous, childish arguments yet again. Give me the counter-curse and let me leave.”

The twist of Black’s lips caused Severus’ fingers to twitch with the need to smack him. He straightened his shoulders as Black approached him, bracing for whatever Black was about to throw at him.

“ _Contraviscum_.”

The mistletoe dropped down onto Severus’ head, then rolled onto the floor. He took a step backward before glancing down. The enchanted plant sat on the floor innocently, the red of the berries contrasting brilliantly with the green leaves. With a sneer, Severus ground it into the threadbare carpet with the heel of his boot.

“No thanks for the man who rescued you from having to walk the halls of Hogwarts with that hanging over your head?”

Severus met Black’s eyes with no hesitation. “Go to hell, Black.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written as part of the [New Year's Countdown](http://newyearcntdown.livejournal.com) on livejournal for the prompt: eggnog.
> 
> This fic has homophobic insults! Read at your own discretion!

Grimmauld Place was silent. This was no change from the norm, but this silence was somehow worse than usual.

Christmas had come and gone. Harry and the Weasley family had filled the house with laughter and love and light for a few short weeks, then they had all gone on their way. New Year’s Eve was winding down and he was still alone in the empty house. The silence had returned, filling each and every corner. Sirius glared into his eggnog.

“You’re pathetic.”

The words were sneered from the doorway. Sirius didn’t even have to turn around to know who had spoken.

“Snape.”

“Black.”

“Bit late in the day for you to be on another mercy mission for Dumbledore, isn’t it? Checking to make sure I haven’t drunk myself to death?” Reaching over to the coffee table beside him, he grasped the neck of a bottle of Firewhisky and sloshed more into the glass of eggnog. “Tell the old bastard I’m fine. Just fucking dandy.”

Holding his breath, he downed the glass in one go. It was a homemade recipe that Molly had left with him after she went back to the Burrow. It was too sweet for his taste – too much vanilla – but it was the kick he was waiting for. Closing his eyes, he huffed out his breath through his nose, feeling the burn from the whisky all through him.

“Do you do anything other than drink and make an embarrassment out of yourself?”

Sirius snorted as he reached for the bottle that contained the eggnog. “Is there anything else to life?”

Bitter resentment flooded through him, curling through his stomach. Or perhaps that was the whisky-laced eggnog. Either way, it wasn’t a nice sensation. He jumped when the sound of Snape’s boots thumping on the threadbare carpet echoed through the empty room.

“Anything _else_?” Stalking around the lounge Sirius sat on, Snape stood before the fireplace and glared down at him. “You sit here as the last of an ancient and proud bloodline. You have wealth, you _could_ have had position and influence and power, and yet you chose to throw it all away for–”

Sirius was on his feet with his wand to Snape’s throat before he could finish. “For the love of friends that I would have given my life for; that I was _willing_ to _die_ for!”

His anger subsided as quickly as it flared. His top lip curling, he lowered the wand and backed off until his knees hit the lounge. Sitting with a thump, he added eggnog and an equal measure of Firewhisky to his glass. Meeting Snape’s eyes, he downed this glass in one breath as well.

“I threw nothing away that I wanted. This house and all the history that comes along with it? You can have it. I’d take the acceptance of my friends over the hollow platitudes of those scum-suckers at the Ministry any day.”

Breaking eye contact, Snape glanced around the room. “And this is where that _acceptance_ has gotten you. Trapped in a house that you yourself admit to hating. Listening to your dead mother scream obscenities at you the entire day. Wishing you had those friends you claim you would die for here with you. But not even the werewolf stays, does he? He has more important things to deal with. You’re in here all by yourself. All day. Just sitting here, drinking your worthless life away.”

Sirius couldn’t deny any of those accusations. He _was_ pathetic; he _was_ just wasting his life away. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice, but that was exactly what he was doing. Instead, he sat and watched him. Of average height and thin, Snape was definitely no looker. There _was_ something about him, though. Sirius couldn’t quite place his finger on it, but there was a definite something about Snape that drew him in. It had even back in school. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“You can’t provoke me into a reaction this time, Snape.”

“‘Provoke’? As I recall, _you_ were the one who hit on _me_ the last time I was forced here.”

Sirius downed another strong glass before standing. He swayed a little, but kept his feet. Stepping forward, he got right into Snape’s personal space. Beetle black eyes stared right into him; the beaky nose pointed up at him. Sirius smiled.

“It’s near midnight, Snape. No one is forcing you here.”

A tingle ran over Sirius’ skin as Snape sneered at him. His fingers twitched, wanting to reach out and grab a handful of Snape’s greasy hair.

“You think I want to be here?”

“What I think you ‘want’ is _me_.”

He was unprepared for how fast Snape moved. A thin, bony hand clenched in the collar of his t-shirt, dragging him forward and down. Sirius stumbled, his head spinning from the fast, jerky movement. Or, again, perhaps it was the eggnog. His breath caught when the tip of a wand jabbed into his throat.

“You think I want _you_?” The words were hissed into his ear. “I knew you were arrogant, Black, but this…”

Sirius sucked his breath in between his teeth as the tip of the wand burned. “You want me, Snape. You want me so badly that you can’t even think straight.”

He closed his eyes against the spin of the room. The only sound in the room was Snape’s harsh breathing and the crackle of the fire. His heart thudded against his ribcage, seeming to vibrate his entire body.

“In what world would someone like _me_ want someone like _you_?”

Sirius couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped him. “‘Someone like _me_ ’,” he mocked, imitating Snape’s Midlands accent. “You want to see the reaction ‘someone like you’ would get from these people you aspire to be? Do you?”

Jerking up and out of the grip Snape held him in, Sirius staggered a bit. When he regained his balance, he grabbed the two bottles from the coffee table and exited the living room. He didn’t bother to check whether Snape was following him. Grasping the curtains covering his mother’s portrait, he yanked them aside.

“ _Sinners! Faggots! Half-breed mongrel from a Muggle-fucker!_ ”

Sirius stood to the side, pouring the rest of the Firewhisky into the bottle of eggnog. Again, he didn’t bother to glance up to see whether Snape had followed; he knew he was there.

“ _Befouling the halls of my ancestral home with your abnormality! Sinners! Out, out of my house!_ ”

After downing half of what remained in the bottle, Sirius pinned Snape with a look. “Well?”

There was colour high on Snape’s sallow cheeks as he listened to the vitriol Walburga Black was spewing at them. That wasn’t what Sirius focussed on, however. The fire burning deeply in Snape’s black eyes was what caught his attention. He took one more swig before holding the bottle out.

“What?”

Sirius shrugged. “You supposedly don’t want me, so maybe you want my alcohol.”

“ _Sinners! Malefactors! Dishonourable filth!_ ”

Again, Sirius found himself unprepared for how quickly Snape could move. The bottle clunked onto the floor as he found himself bent over the hall table. Snape leant in close to him, his breath ruffling the hair at the back of Sirius’ neck.

“Ever taken it in front of mummy dearest?”

Sirius let out a groan. “You gonna fuck me, Snape? Gonna show the world how much you don’t care by sticking it to one of society’s elite?”

Pain shot through him when Snape reached around and grabbed his cock. His bony fingers dug into Sirius’ skin, almost hard enough to bruise.

“Shut the fuck up, Black.”

Sirius braced himself against the table as Snape continued to paw at him. The sound of the portrait’s shrieks filled his ears as his head began to swim. Closing his eyes, he hung his head.

“Hurry up.”

“Fuck off.”

“It’s just a fly; are you lost?”

“Fuck _off_.”

When he felt a sharp nail jab into a particularly sensitive spot, Sirius pushed off the table. Spinning around proved to be a bad move, as the room continued to move without him. His eyes closed automatically as he leant back against the table so he could open his jeans himself. They dropped to the floor with a swish of fabric, his belt buckle clunking on the wood.

“If you’re gonna fuck me, Snape–”

“ _How dare you! Filth! In_ my _house!_ ”

Sirius grinned as he palmed himself. He tilted his head back and spread his thighs, enjoying the jolt of pleasure that shot through him. The air around him seemed to be almost charged with electricity as Snape stepped forward. One of Snape’s bony hands was placed on Sirius’ chest, shoving him backwards.

“Bend over.”

Reopening his eyes, Sirius got a quick glimpse of Snape standing before him. His robes were shoved to the side, and the fly of his trousers unbuttoned. He was glaring, but not at Sirius. His eyes were fixed above Sirius’ head, clearly aimed at Walburga. Sirius grinned again as he spun around.

“Fuck me.”

“ _Worthless filth! Abhorrent freaks of nature!_ ”

Sirius’ head swam again when Snape’s fingers – thankfully coated with magically-conjured lube – breached him. Snape didn’t waste too much time on preparation. A second finger was added a few seconds after the first, causing pain to lance through him. Sirius’ head tilted back again, his breath hissing through his teeth.

“This is what you wanted.”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“You want to be fucked.”

“Yes.”

“You want my cock buried so far up your pure-blood arse that you will be tasting me for _weeks_.”

Sirius had to figure, even through the fog that was descending over his mind, that Snape was speaking more for the portrait’s benefit than for him. He nodded anyway.

“I – a worthless half-blood – am going to fuck you so hard you forget your name.”

“Yessss…”

Snape removed his fingers, wasting little time before the head of his cock was pushing in in their place. Sirius gritted his teeth at the pain that shot through him, his erection flagging. He held on, though. Gripping himself, he tugged and stroked, focussing on trying to get himself properly hard again instead of on the pain of being entered too soon.

“Fuck me… Fuck me…”

Snape needed no prompting. Snapping his hips, he started a punishing pace. Sirius grinned as the portrait shrieked. Despite the spinning of the room around him, he kept his eyes open, staring up at the ceiling. The Firewhisky-laced eggnog had certainly done its job.

“ _Faggots! Faggots! In my house! Befouling the house of my ancestors!_ ”

His cock finally hardening again in his hand, Sirius matched Snape’s pace. Tugging and squeezing, he jerked himself off in front of the screeching portrait. Pleasure shot through him as Snape brushed against his prostate.

“Yes, fuck yes…”

Snape’s fingers tangled through Sirius’ hair, yanking his head backwards. “She’s right: you are filth. Allowing yourself to be touched – fucked – by a half-breed.” He released the hair before continuing. “You see this? _This_ is the last of your line. _This_ is what your house has been reduced to. A pathetic drunk who _begs_ to be fucked by the very people you disdain.”

Sirius’ head fell backwards, his mouth hanging open as Snape fucked him. The portrait screamed, Snape’s nails dug into his hips, and his own hand increased its pace. With the spinning of the room due to the eggnog combined with the pleasure rushing through him, he found he could barely breathe. Letting out a desperate-sounding moan, he twisted his hand, reaching for orgasm.

“You… are… mmm… _pathetic_ …”

With one last tug, Sirius spilled over the edge. His body spasmed, shooting his release up and over the portrait. His hand continued to move, milking himself for everything he had. He was so lost in his own pleasure that he didn’t even notice Snape freezing behind him. They collapsed down onto the floor beside the eggnog bottle.

“ _Out! Get out of my house!_ ”

Sirius grinned again. Reaching out, he grabbed the bottle and took another deep swig before offering it to Snape. This time, it was accepted.

“No one can know of this,” Snape muttered a few minutes later. “ _No one_.”


End file.
